Evidently, God's day had lost its end somewhere. And now the sun is
gone. The sky is red only on one side, and it is already growing dark.
It grows colder in the fields. It gets dusky and more dusky, and at last
quite dark. At last! With heart almost bursting from his bosom, he set
out on his way, and cautiously descended through the dense woods into
the deep hollow called the Bear's ravine. Basavriuk was already waiting
there. It was so dark, that you could not see a yard before you. Hand in
hand they penetrated the thin marsh, clinging to the luxuriant thorn
bushes, and stumbling at almost every step. At last they reached an open
spot. Petro looked about him: he had never chanced to come there before.
Here Basavriuk halted.

"Do you see, before you stand three hillocks? There are a great many
sorts of flowers upon them. But may some power keep you from plucking
even one of them. But as soon as the fern blossoms, seize it, and look
not round, no matter what may seem to be going on behind thee."

Petro wanted to ask--and behold he was no longer there. He approached
the three hillocks--where were the flowers? He saw nothing. The wild
steppe-grass darkled around, and stifled everything in its luxuriance.
But the lightning flashed; and before him stood a whole bed of flowers,
all wonderful, all strange: and there were also the simple fronds of
fern. Petro doubted his senses, and stood thoughtfully before them, with
both hands upon his sides.

"What prodigy is this? one can see these weeds ten times in a day: what
marvel is there about them? was not devil's-face laughing at me?"

Behold! the tiny flower-bud crimsons, and moves as though alive. It is a
marvel, in truth. It moves, and grows larger and larger, and flushes